


1 Cup of Sugar

by j_gabrielle



Series: Peach Pie [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Human, Crossdressing, Love Confessions, M/M, Moodboard Inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15090407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: “Is. Did you buy that?” Hank stutters, eyes looking down at the satin lingerie. Connor is hyperventilating and trying valiantly not to cry from embarrassment.





	1 Cup of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hardheartshere.tumblr.com/post/175070471396/arranged-marriage-p2)

The peach pie he baked the other day was a hit with Hank, and the memory of Hank’s eyes fluttering close and sighing happily sets loose a flurry of butterflies in his belly. 

Connor is in the middle of prepping the peaches when the doorbell rang. He jumps, wiping his hands dry on a tea towel before crossing the room. He had been expecting the package for two weeks now, but still he is surprised when he signs for it. Holding it in his hands, Connor clears his throat. Not quite bolting into their bedroom, he closes the door with a shaking hand, heart pounding in his ears. Connor unwraps the package carefully, listening out for Sumo or the tell-tale sounds of his husband. Hank isn’t due home for a couple hours yet. Something about celebrating the closure of a case at the bar. It is that knowledge that galvanises him to shed his shirt and pants, hesitating for a moment before doing away with his briefs as well.

Connor takes a moment to run the fabric between his fingers. It had been bought on a whim. He saw it and clicked buy before he could think twice about it. Now, he carefully slips it on. The vintage inspired design hugs his hips and he exhales shakily at the texture of lace and satin on his skin. Turning to the mirror, he lifts his hand to touch the design, entranced by the way the raised threads catch on his nails. He feels beautiful. The thought wrings a tight hold on his chest. He might feel beautiful, but his husband does not see him that way.

Blinking away the sudden rush of sadness, Conor bites his bottom lip. Maybe he can wear this again when he is alone at home. The quiet of his thoughts are disturbed by Sumo barking and scratching at the front door. Alarmed at the possibility of an intruder, Connor grabs his shirt and pulls it on just as the bedroom door swings open. Connor yelps, just as Hank steps into the room, catching his wrist.

“Is. Did you buy that?” Hank stutters, eyes looking down at the satin lingerie. Connor is hyperventilating and trying valiantly not to cry from embarrassment. “Connor, please calm down. I’m not mad at you. I just. Please just calm down?” Hank pleads, and despite the terror seizing him, Connor stands as still as he can with one hand pushing the hem of his shirt as far as he can downward, with the wrist of the other still in Hank’s grasp.

Eventually, the older man tugs him to their bed, gently seating him on the bedding and going to his knees in front of Connor. He wants to object, starts on the sentence that Hank should be standing, when he looks up at his husband’s face and sees the gentle amusement there. “They’re peach coloured.” Hank says, voice tinged with warmth. “Were you… Do they feel good on you?”

Connor reckons his eyes are as wide as saucers, transfix on Hank’s face. He nods, breath catching in his chest when Hank thumbs at the lace. “Do you like wearing them?”

“I just got them today.” Connor mumbles. Hank looks at him consideringly. There is a tender curl of something that Connor only sees in the reflection of his face when he thinks of Hank.

“You look real pretty in them.” Hank smiles, smoothing a hand over where the lace edges to the skin of his thigh.

Seizing on the moment, Connor lays his hand over Hank’s. “I wanted to wear them for you. I wanted to.” Connor tastes the words tumbling out of his lips, “I bought them and I thought of how it would look on me. When I tried them on, I-I felt pretty. I wanted you to think I was pretty too.”

Hank looks stunned at the words, but he doesn’t move away. “But you are pretty. Connor, you are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. You. When I saw you at our first meeting, I thought I was looking at an angel. That even if I put in my proposal, you’d never accept because there’d be so many others lining up to take your hand. I wouldn’t stand a chance, but when you smiled at me… I knew I had to try.”

Connor frowns, “But you never said… You never even looked at me in that way!” Hank ducks his head, smile turning wry.

“I made a promise that I would treat you well. That meant letting you decide. Besides, you put that pillow between us every night, sweetheart. I wanted to wait til you took it away yourself before I said anything. I’m an old fool, Connor. I’d always looked at you that way. ‘Specially when you weren’t looking.”

Connor feels his lips stretch into an answering smile. Leaning in closer, he breathes, “We’re both fools.”

Hank chuckles, “I guess we are." 

**Author's Note:**

> You can leave me some moodboard requests [Here](http://hardheartshere.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
